i am every kitten

Girl that apologizes for all of that, says she was going through a lot figuring out she was gay and took it out on you and feels bad about it, so she buys you a few drinks to apologize.

Girl that feels really comfortable to be around after you notice you her turning away a few guys with a sharp glare so you can be alone with her.

Girl that offhandedly jokes that she can take you out back and give you one last wedgie "for old times sake"

Girl that looks confused when you get visibly blushy and flustered and moan like you need something when she places a hand on your back near your waistband.

Girl whose heartrate spikes when you accidentally let slip that youve been fantasizing about her doing that exact thing to you for the last 15 years.

Girl who smiles sadistically as she invites you back to her place so she can bully you the way she always wanted to back when she didnt know why she thought you were cute.

it's

“it’s no wonder, you were so squeamish you could barely keep your eyes open. will you be able to sleep tonight?”

“yes i’ll sleep no problem ms. diaz, don’t worry about it,” it lies through its teeth

“why don’t you… just call me adriana. when we aren’t at school,” she scoots a bit closer to it and rests a hand on its thigh, “if that sounds okay to you.”

“oh… sure!” it gets a slight grin on its face, “well adriana is now a good time to mention that i so didn’t do that essay yet.”

“what! you had so much time and i even offered to help. you told me you were almost done you lying little brat,” her tone is playful and she scoots even closer.

her hands begin to wander. climbing up its stomach and sides. it freezes in place and doesn’t respond to her touch. this is the most she’s ever touched it.

“you know… i’m going to have to punish you for this. if you want an extension on the essay.”

“w-wait what. what kind of punishment?”

there’s no hesitation before she goes on the offensive. her fingers dig into its ribs and underarms. it starts giggling and flailing around wildly. she’s stronger than it is. its flailing only seems to make things worse.

she stops. it notices that her breathing is much heavier. she must be worn out. its skin is so flushed and it tries to squirm away while it has a moment. but she’s still keeping it in place so easily.

gently caressing her body in her sleep, feeling her stir at your touch

hearing her slow, deliberate breaths catch in her throat as your fingers reach the warmth between her legs